A General's Satisfaction
by Sibilant Macabre
Summary: Sephiroth fanfic. Second chapter added. Set before Nibelheim - most likely during Crisis Core - before the Jenova incident. ShinRa's general has the most interesting way to relax after a long day.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **Sephiroth for animenadie. Early birthday present. Second attempt at writing Sephiroth. Set before Nibelheim; the General "relaxes" after a long day. Possible chapters added later, at the muse's whim.

Rated Mature for content.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own it, but I have no problem with "borrowing".

**A General's Satisfaction**

By: Sibilant Macabre

It had been such a long day. The General sighed as he entered his quarters, the automatic door sliding shut behind him. Shrugging off the ankle-length coat, he began to toss it atop the elegant leather couch, but refrained and moved to his bedroom, correctly hanging up the tailor-made garment in his spacious closet. The massive blade riding his spine he removed reverently, murmuring soothing words to the sword in an ancient tongue before placing it in its custom-made harness. Sitting down atop the immaculately made bed, the silver-haired man proceeded to divest himself of boots and chest harness. Once more, he put them away meticulously and exited the bedroom for the kitchen.

Sephiroth sighed again as he poured himself a generous glass of brandy. Normally he cared naught for alcohol, it really did nothing for his constitution anyway, but the day _had_ been a bit stressing and he supposed he might pretend to be "normal" for a change and indulge in the bitter liquid. Clad in the lower part of his leather uniform, he padded barefoot to the living area and sat down comfortably in his large chair. As most things in his living quarters, his chair was custom made for his specific comfort, befitting his status as Shin-Ra's General of the Elite SOLDIER unit. He had few personal belongings; however, his job was his primary consideration.

As today. First, overseeing the training of the potential SOLDIERS from the ranks of Shin-Ra's military, then spending the rest of the morning, lunch and most of the afternoon in his office, buried in the never-ceasing paperwork that threatened to consume and devour. _Then_, the meeting with the heads of Shin-Ra; President Shin-Ra, Rufus, Scarlet and Heldegger. Boring inane prattle that turned out to be. Extraordinary eyes narrowed in irritation. The General knocked back the rest of the brandy in one smooth gulp and stared at the empty glass in his large hand. Damn, now he'd have to get up and get more.

Not deigning to do so just now, Sephiroth closed his eyes, eyes that bore the telltale marks of Mako, that brilliant green shine that rivaled the purest-bred feline on the Planet, and leaned back his head against the cushion. He felt the recycled air hiss as the cooling unit kicked on and welcomed it against his inherently warm skin. He rested there, a silver-haired Adonis basking in respite. But after a moment, the demanding of his tired muscles prodded him to rise and, after returning the glass to the kitchen, washed and put away appropriately, Sephiroth indulged in a steaming, muscle relaxing shower.

Military training served him well, for ten minutes later, the General was clean and his bathroom once more returned to its pristine condition. Not bothering to dress, Sephiroth merely slung a haphazard towel about his lean waist and sauntered into the bedroom, stretching atop the sheets in the blessedly cool darkness. The dark Wutian silk felt heavenly against damp skin and Sephiroth gradually felt his body unwind, one muscle at a time. Yet, another need was stirring, somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind.

It had been plaguing him for a few days now, this dark whisper. It was a damning emotion, one he loathed; to his thinking it exhibited weakness, weakness he despised. He knew it was "normal", that it was a healthy function of his male body, but his mind, so powerful and his will, so strong and indomitable, were revolted yet exhilarated at the nuance that it made him disgusted. It was the _control_ he needed. And when he fell into that pit, control, the control of his own flesh was denied him.

And then there were _they_. The tantalizing erotic female essences that plagued his mind as his body screamed for satiation. Two were they, sensuous sirens that came to him when he'd given into the loss of control, of _will_. Sometimes one would appear in his mind, sometimes both at once. The last time he'd given in, the dark haired beauty had come to him and he could practically _feel_ the heat of her lips and tongue scarring his sensitized flesh. He'd woken drained, beaten, _used_, more exhausted than before he'd slept. And in the back of his mind, where slumbered that primal animal that underlay his civility, his military discipline, he _reveled_ in it.

The faint brush of cool air wafted across hot skin and Sephiroth closed his eyes, feeling the first damning plaguings begin. A soft moan escaped his lips, sounding alien to his ears. Behind closed lids, the velvet darkness shifted and he heard a sultry whisper, groaning silently as his traitorous body responded. Rock-hard muscles twitched, honed to definition from a lifetime of hard military training.

"No," he grated, but he felt his hands rise from their clenched grip on the sheets and his palms flattened over already-hard nipples, hating himself but knowing _she_ made his limbs move. Her throaty whisper echoed in the deep recesses of his mind. _I have come, prince. At your need._ They always called him _prince_. Or _General_. Never used his name.

_I did not summon you,_ he replied silently, inwardly cursing as his palms rubbed and fingers tweaked flat male nipples, the flesh burning under his own touch. _But you did, prince_, she replied, and Sephiroth felt smooth warm lips press against his in the 'scape and a lusty groan slithered from his mouth to hers as their tongues mingled and caressed. Tresses of dark crimson met his eyes and he knew his visitor. _You are the other_, he said and she murmured her assent. _Aye_, she replied, manipulating his hands further down his lean, long body. _I will one day be your queen, prince._ But she stilled his further protests and questions, hot wanting mouth traveling down his body, causing shivers to ripple across his flesh. _But let me sate you, dear General. Let me sate you._

She wasted little time. A primal groan ripped from Sephiroth's throat as he felt a hot wetness envelop the turgid flesh between his thighs and his back involuntarily arched, unaware that his own hand gripped and fondled. For in the dark red recesses of his mind, her mouth sucked and teased, drawing his aching member deep between her lips, tongue and teeth swirling in devilish wantonness. She knew just how to please him, she loved him hard, making him gasp and buck against her wicked lips. Sephiroth panted; sweat sheened his large frame as long calloused fingers gripped and manipulated, driving him against his own hand in the throes of passion.

Teeth scraped his manhood, he cried out with the intensity she was instilling in his blood. But she held him fast, pinned him to the mattress as surely as Masamune would a butterfly to a wall. Her lips and tongue sucked at him, drawing away completely before taking him fully into her mouth, over and over, nearly enough to drive him mad with lust and desire. He was drenched in sin and sex, but was unable to care. A deep pain pierced his brain; her fingernails had gripped his upper thighs so tightly that blood welled in the marks and he screamed, back bowing off the bed as he exploded within her mouth. His orgasm went on and on; she held him through it, he felt her tongue lapping at him, carefully licking and caressing.

Sephiroth fell back, replete. Liquid gold still raced through his blood but it cooled, though where she touched still glittered. He felt her move back up his body and take his mouth again, her taste sinfully sweet and mingled with his own. Hating himself for it, he longed to rest then bury himself in her, but she soothed him gently, whispering into his mind. _Take ease, prince. Rest. When you have need, we will come for you._ The General demurred tiredly. _No, leave me and never come again._ Her soft laugh whispered over his body, making him twitch. _You cannot refuse us, prince. We will come to you when needed. Sleep now._

His eyelids were so heavy, he couldn't resist her quiet command. He felt the chaos in his mind recess and with its departure, she faded away. But just before he drifted off to sleep, a sharp stinging made his brow furrow and he rose slightly, flicking on the beside lamp. A chill raced down his spine to see blood staining the marbled skin of his upper thighs, seeped from perfect half-moon indentions embedded in his skin…


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **So here it is. Chapter Two of my little ficlet. Animenadie, I sincerely hope you're happy. I have a few ideas for chapter three, but again, don't expect it for a bit. You know how my muses are. They hog the cookies, covers and soda. And we all know we're not paid for this.

**A General's Satisfaction  
**Chapter Two

It was usually one of the highlights of his day. Sephiroth relished coming home to his quiet apartment within the ShinRa building; his private quarters were nestled at the very end of the exclusive SOLDIER floor. As per his usual routine, the General divested his coat and sword, placing both in their appropriate places among his belongings.

ShinRa lived to serve its great General, thus supper was an ordered affair, as per the usual. He'd considered going out for dinner earlier, but a quick briefing by the President had turned into a three hour screaming match between Lazard and Scarlett, rendering every cranium in the room awash with a terrible pounding. Thus, Sephiroth had coldly excused himself when the woman began throwing papers at the red-faced director and stormed from the council room, metaphorically washing his hands of the lot of them for the day.

After supper, Sephiroth took a glass of brandy and moved to stand on his balcony, which overlooked the city of Midgar, gleaming brightly atop its plates. But he knew that beneath that steel landscape lurked a different world. A world not nearly as bright and shiny as that above. A fine line creased his brow as he idly wondered if he was fighting for the right city.

Three tumblers later, the brandy warm in his body, Sephiroth turned his back on the contemplation of his city and went back inside, closing the drapes on the lights of Midgar. He sighed. Tomorrow would surely bring more strain, more problems, more headaches. _How_ he tired of this inanity!

But it wasn't to be helped, therefore he resolved to simply move forward, military training serving him well to regain his focus. All that remained was a soothing hot shower and to blissfully stretch out in bed, done with the world for the night.

With that thought in mind, Sephiroth made his way to his bathroom, divesting his long frame of clothing with great care, as the garments had been tailor-made to suit his style and purposes. Normally he was quite comfortable in the black leather, but now, finally gloriously naked, he stretched and sighed, running hands through unbound silver hair as he scratched his scalp.

After letting the running shower water adjust to a comfortable temperature, Sephiroth stepped inside, closing the glass door behind him. The shower itself was made entirely of glass, resembling a clear box with water faucets and a drain. He shivered as the warm water hit his skin, small needles running down pale perfect flesh. For all the rigorous training he had undergone, for all the endless experiments wrought upon his body, for all the battle in which he had taken part, the General's flesh was smooth and clean, unmarred by scar or blemish. _Perfection incarnate_. That pale, pale skin coupled with the river of silver hair streaming down his back rendered the bathing General a living breathing Adonis in human form, enjoying the pleasure of a simple shower.

He stood under the soothing spray, it beating softly upon his thick neck and chiseled chest, but Sephiroth suddenly took a swift breath because a damning sensation began to creep his flesh. A ghostly sensation skittered over him, causing his head to lower as he tightly closed MAKO infused cyan eyes, their pupils genetically altered to feline sharpness.

_You feel me, prince_, he heard inside his own ears, followed by an unearthly girlish chuckle. As if to prove that fact, Sephiroth groaned to indeed feel warm ethereal hands drifting over the sculpted muscles of his back, following the lines of skin wet and glistening under the soft light. Sephiroth froze, eyes flaring open as he recognized his damning visitor. _The dark haired beauty…her voice, so sweet and light, holding none of the black magic imbued in the other. Sweet Shiva, deliver me…_

Sephiroth swallowed. "I need you _not_," he ground out, but her wicked chuckle reverberated in his mind. _Aye, prince, you do. You summoned me._ As if chastisement for his denial, her ghostly hands curved around his ribs, pressing palms to his slick stomach, Sephiroth vaguely aware that his own trembling hands were slowly caressing his abdomen.

"I would never summon you," he ground out, shaking his wet head once, sharply. A strangled groan slithered from his lips to feel her hands wander lower, teasingly brushing over the tops of his thighs. Sephiroth felt the water cooler on his skin; his body temperature was spiraling higher and higher in response to his own ministrations.

_But you did, prince,_ she insisted, making him moan as her warm slick hand encircled his length, fingers tightly gripping now-aching flesh between his thighs. Sephiroth's head fell back as he felt her press against his back, ghostly breasts and taunt nipples scoring his skin.

Her wicked chuckle smoked in his ears, but he couldn't stop it, couldn't deny that his body _screamed_ for her touch, her caress. He slapped a hand against the wall, grunting in painful pleasure as he thrust powerful hips against his own hand, sinking further into debauchery and lust as her devilish words ground against his psyche. _Release yourself for me, prince. Thrash beautifully in your glorious lust. I _ache_ for you, General. Your wanting princess _needs_ you, my silver-haired majesty…I want to devour your desire, sweet prince…_

He felt her fingers tighten _painfully_ around his throbbing member and he voiced a strangled scream, _so_ wanting to burst into a blinding heaven, but she denied him, slowing her touch and nearly making him whine with the sadistic torture.

_Let me enjoy you longer, General,_ she chuckled deep in his ear, and Sephiroth's knees nearly buckled as he felt a second hand dip dangerously lower, beneath his shaft to grope and fondle the heavy sac. At that same instant, his hand squeezed hard on his member and he did slide to the floor, bucking and roaring as he crashed over the crested zenith, trembling in light of her dark mirth. _Beautiful, my Adonis, simply divine_, he felt her breathe against his wet neck as she coated his still-throbbing shaft with the fruits of his raging passion. _I will sate you when next you need_, she whispered throatily, and Sephiroth moaned to the feel of her tongue teasingly brushing his lips. Then she was gone, a bare wisp of breath.

The General remained on his knees in the steaming shower for a few minutes longer, simply trying to regain his breath and a modicum of sanity. Although the water was still warm and comfortable, it chilled his very soul to see _two_ large hand-prints sliding down the glass wall of his shower…

_To be continued...?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Wow, chapter _three_! This just amazes me. Many, many thanks to Nadiefor her patience and proofreading, lol. I truly appreciate it, love, and am thrilled you likey. Hopefully more to come, but you know how my muses are, the ingrates.

Anyway, hope you readers enjoy.

* * *

**A General's Satisfaction**

Chapter Three

"Whassa matter with you? Ain't you getting' sleep at night, sir?"

General Sephiroth glanced up from his reading to peer at the SOLDIER 1st class, one Zack Fair. The younger man casually leaned one hand on the general's paper-strewn desk and grinned whitely. Dark haired and blue-eyed, Zack was a very good SOLDIER operative, one of the best under Sephiroth's command. However, he did have a rather grating – to his commander's mind – habit of making it his job to constantly "check up" on his boss, whether said boss needed it or not.

Sephiroth sighed a long-suffering sigh and closed the email he'd been currently reading. Propping elbows on his desk and tenting his fingers, he gazed up at his protégé, wondering if throwing him through the door would be considered rude and whether or not Zack would get the point. He snorted softly; probably not.

"Don't you have troops to inspire?" he returned dryly, lifting one platinum eyebrow in query.

Zack pushed off the desk and shrugged, removing the large sword strapped to his back and reverently leaning it against the wall before flopping down in one of the chairs perpendicular to Sephiroth's desk. He rested his chin on his hand and waved the other in dismissively.

"Nah. The Director's got 'em all out in the rain today, running laps over the obstacle courses." He rolled MAKO eyes. "Said they needed 'toughening up' after such recently crappy performances."

He didn't elaborate. Neither did Sephiroth choose to comment on past events. They were still too painful to be spoken of, and the losses had been nearly devastating, not only to Shin-Ra and the SOLDIER program, but to the two men sitting in the General's office as well.

A moment of silence, then Zack piped up again, this time with a slightly lecherous grin. "Yo, dude, you seen the Prez's new secretary yet?" He whistled between his teeth. "_Man_, but she's _hot_. I nearly plowed into the elevator door just watching her walk down the damned hall."

Again, Sephiroth's eyebrows went up. "What of your flower girl? I thought you were devoted totally and only to her, the sweet child."

The general took saturnine pleasure in watching the other SOLDIER squirm. "Well," Zack fidgeted, scratching his cheek with one gloved hand, "It's not like I was _leerin'_ or anythin'. I was just, y'know, _looking_, is all. I didn't even talk to her, for Shiva's sake!"

"Naturally," Sephiroth absently replied, returning to his email.

"Besides," Zack went on, forever cursed with the problem of shoving both boots in his mouth, "_Reno_ said the way she walked looked like two cats fighting in a sack."

This time, Sephiroth just stared at the young SOLDIER, a mixture of crogglement, disbelief and exasperation marring his face. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and shook his head before returning to work. Zack snickered; Sephiroth shot him a glower.

After a moment, Zack rolled his eyes. "All _right_, don't get your leather in a snitch, boss-man," he said, grinning. He lazed to his feet, retrieving his sword and said, "I'll let you get back to work, o busy general. Still," he rapped smartly on Sephiroth's desk, "you _do_ need to get out more. Take a vacation or something, huh?" With a jaunty salute, the Gongaga native sauntered from the spacious office, closing the door behind him.

Two hours later, after a rather scathing email conversation with Lazard, telling the Director he was bloody _not_ going to the wasted city of Banora to filter through the ashes, Sephiroth scowled at his monitor and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and trying to find a modicum of calm.

He knew the director was paranoid about any SOLDIER evidence that might have been missed during the "operation" there in Banora, but Shiva be damned before _he_ take up the chore. He'd refused it once already; why was Lazard crazy enough to think he wouldn't a second time? That's what the bloody _Turks_ were for, by the Planet!

"Idiots, every one of them," he muttered to himself, briefly pinching the bridge of his nose. Taking a moment to reflect, he thought about Zack's earlier question. _Ain't you sleepin', Sephiroth?_

In truth, he _was_ having a bit of trouble sleeping. Not only because his two best friends – friends that had been hard to come by and sometimes even harder to keep – had been branded traitors by the corporation they'd all faithfully served and then destroyed by that same organization. No, it wasn't only the memories of their time spent training and serving together that kept him from finding rest.

Sephiroth scowled; he absolutely _refused _to entertain such thoughts here in his office. Those damning recollections were to remain firmly ensconced in the back of his brain, kept behind a strong force of will, never to be released. But somehow, _damn it all_, they managed to sneak free and plague him in the dark hours of the night, when all else eluded him. They left him desolate and _wanting_, a fact he cursed to the nine hells and beyond.

The general frowned harder and peevishly considered throwing his letter opener at the wall, just for the satisfaction of seeing it quivering in the shining metal. Perhaps he should take the rest of the day off, spend the afternoon venting his aggravation on simulations in the training room, as he'd done yesterday, and the day before. Sephiroth wondered if they'd finished the repairs on the Wutian temple simulation yet. He'd taken _great_ satisfaction in razing that wretched thing to the ground, although the techs had been worried about the electrical fires left in the general's wake.

Sephiroth sighed, leaning up to his desk. No, he needed to regain his focus and _work_, blast it. Not for the first time did he wonder if these…_hauntings_ were side effects of the new "vitamins" introduced in his regime a few months ago. He didn't recall the exact date of their beginning, but he felt sure they were close. Perhaps he'd pay a visit to the science wing and request a detailed report…

But later. Right now, he needed to get his sorry ass back to work; there were reviews to be done, reports to manage, and files to be updated and organized. Steeling himself for a long afternoon of eye-watering misery, Sephiroth settled more comfortably in his desk chair and resumed his tasks.

The chime of his phone startled him from deep consideration over cadet reviews and Sephiroth jerked a bit, blinking as he returned to reality. Glancing at the blinking phone, he pressed the comm button and inquired, "What is it, Gerard?"

The Shin-Ra receptionist assigned to the General's Office briskly replied, "Reports, sir. Delivered from top floor and needing some signatures."

With a silent prayer for patience and the mild hope of quitting time _quite _soon, Sephiroth licked his lips then answered, "Very well, Gerard. Send them in."

He went back to his reports as the door opened and said without looking up, "Just sit them on the desk. I'll go over them later this afternoon." Sephiroth heard the soft thump as the file folders met the cherry wood but the answering voice froze him in surprise.

"Certainly, General. My pleasure."

It wasn't the fact that the voice was _female_; Sephiroth was well aware that not only men worked for Shin-Ra and although very few of them were present on the SOLDIER floor, it wasn't a totally uncommon phenomenon.

What made his blood run cold for a heartbeat and his eyes to widen on a frozen breath was the fact that the answering voice was _familiar_. He _knew_ that voice, as surely as he knew he was seated in his office behind his desk. And, unfortunately, he knew it was impossible that he hear it, because right up until this very second, that damning voice had only existed in the darkest depths of his mind.

Shocked with disbelief, Sephiroth slowly lifted his head, as if afraid of what he might see. When MAKO infused aqua eyes finally found the woman's face, for a long terrifying moment the General was afraid he'd finally gone crazy.

But seeing her standing there on the other side of his desk finally cemented what he'd heard; indeed, he _knew_ this woman. And he desperately wished he didn't. For it to be even _remotely_ possible, he'd have to be completely comatose and living in a nightmare, one from which he desperately wished he might wake.

The silence stretched and Sephiroth gradually became aware he was _staring_. She didn't seem to mind, however, but one arched eyebrow lifted over deep green eyes, eyes he'd seen before, filled with stirrings of things he damned to immortal hell forever.

She tilted her head slightly, the cool white light overhead glinting on soft russet curls. "Did I miss a button, General?" she asked lightly, a small smile lifting a corner of her lips.

Sephiroth blinked, clearing his throat noisily. _Totally_ off-balance and despising it, he coughed once and negated, "No, of course not."

_Diplomacy, Sephiroth. We can do that. We haven't run mad…yet_. "I apologize, madam," he went on smoothly, getting to his feet in one graceful motion. "I wasn't expecting such a courier." He extended one hand, even here gloved in soft black leather. "I don't believe we've been introduced yet." _Although I won't swear to that_. "Sephiroth, of SOLDIER."

Dimples winked at him with her smile and she took his hand, her grip surprisingly firm. "Marissa Lewis, President Shin-Ra's secretary. Newly acquired," she added with a roguish wink.

Her coy demeanor didn't surprise him. _Why should it? I've been her victim before, by the Planet_. But he kept his countenance carefully blank, adopting the semi-bored expression perfected over nearly three decades. "Welcome to Shin-Ra, Ms. Lewis."

Releasing his hand, she smiled at him again. "Thank you, General. I appreciate it." A pause, then she touched the folders atop his desk. "You'll be ready for me by five, then, yes?"

Sephiroth blinked, then digested the inherent meaning. "Ah, yes. Of course." Rather than continue to be flummoxed like a strung-out chocobo, Sephiroth opted to toss a verbal sally of his own. "I'll make certain everything's in perfect condition, Ms. Lewis, and will be quite prompt."

Although the innuendo was gentle and somewhat obscure, Marissa Lewis nonetheless chuckled, a low husky sound that lifted the hair on the General's neck and tapped fingers atop the folders as she gave him a – what _was_ that, an _inviting?_ – look. "Very well then, General. I'll be waiting."

She turned to leave, pausing at the door to glance back over her shoulder and add, "And don't be late…_sir_."

The door closed behind her and Sephiroth sat – fell – back into his chair, bewilderment etched across his face. _This is impossible. A nightmare if one exists. Shiva, I need… _Sephiroth groaned and his forehead fell into his hand; he rubbed his temples wearily. _I don't know what the hell I need…_

Well, he finally decided, there was only one way to examine this _impossibility_ more closely. And that was to be at the top floor of the Shin-Ra Tower at precisely five o'clock. Sephiroth glanced at his computer; two hours left. He narrowed his eyes and reached for the first folder.

_To be continued…_


End file.
